


you're in love (true love)

by amosanguis



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Bonds, Brief Gore, Brief Mentions of Tarsus IV, Dream Sex, Dream Sharing, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Mind Meld, Non-Sexual Intimacy, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Sharing a Bed, post-STID, tfw your captain dies and suddenly y'all become needy and co-dependent, title from a song
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-03
Updated: 2020-02-03
Packaged: 2021-02-28 00:34:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,239
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22544854
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amosanguis/pseuds/amosanguis
Summary: The first time they share a bed, Jim is three weeks back from the dead and he’s drunk and sleep-deprived and Spock himself isn’t in much better shape.
Relationships: James T. Kirk/Spock
Comments: 17
Kudos: 568





	you're in love (true love)

**Author's Note:**

> Title from "You Are In Love" by Taylor Swift
> 
> I think I tagged this right? Things are largely non-sexual in this fic up until the end for Reasons. Most of which were because I want more (platonic-ish) bed-sharing than what fandom is giving me.

-z-

The first time they share a bed, Jim is three weeks back from the dead and he’s drunk and sleep-deprived (that way lies nothing but nightmares and an uncertainty that he’ll ever wake again) and Spock himself isn’t in much better shape, hovering over and around Jim, dancing in and out of the periphery like he’s unsure of his place.

And though Spock may be unsure, Jim is not. Jim grabs Spock and pulls him in and they hold onto each other so tight – there’s no glass between them, not this time – as they shake and fall apart. They don’t kiss; hands don’t go below the waist.

Spock puts his fingers to Jim’s meld-points and they wrap themselves up in each other – desperately needing the absolute surety that only a meld could provide that they were alive and there – _together_ – and they fall asleep like that, Spock’s hand on Jim’s face and their legs intertwined.

For the weeks it takes to ready the _Enterprise_ and the crew for the five-year mission, every night they share a bed is a night without nightmares; and if one does slip through, it ends quickly enough.

Eventually, Spock gives up any pretense of leaving and Jim arrives home from therapy one day to find his apartment has some new Vulcan accents – like what looks to be two very dangerous bladed weapons now hanging crossed over his dining room table.

Jim’s still staring when Spock emerges from the restroom. Then their eyes meet and there’s a moment of hesitation, a tenseness to the line of Spock’s shoulders that only Jim can see, that shows that Spock may be expecting some pushback at him simply taking over Jim’s space.

Except that Jim doesn’t care.

Should they have talked about it? Maybe. Probably. Okay – definitely. But who’s to say they hadn’t talked about it at some point during their melds? Jim has wanted Spock around on a more permanent basis for a while now. Spock must have seen it and taken it as permission.

Jim smiles as he walks up to Spock and he puts his hand on the back of Spock’s head and pulls him down so their foreheads touch. And they take that moment, that quiet little sliver of time, to just simply _exist_ with each other.

-

_Jim is running, is tripping over the dead of Tarsus – all he can smell is shit and rot and burning things. The cold grips him, squeezes his lungs so he can never get enough air. He wants to scream, but he can’t draw the breath—_

_Then Spock appears, he rises up out of the dead and grabs hold of Jim as Jim goes to run past, Jim never seeing him. Jim turns to fight, his fists clenched and ready though he knows he’s weak – he doesn’t have the same strength he used to – he’s a farm boy, yes, but a starving one – then he_ sees _Spock and his fists drop to his side as Spock pulls him close, whispering Jim’s name over and over. Spock seems to_ grow _around Jim, blocking out the dead and the stinking of Tarsus._

_The world shifts then, when Jim pulls out of Spock’s embrace, and they’re on some paradise planet – where the skies are pink in an eternal sunset and the trees around them stand tall and regal and the wind carries on it a sweet floral perfume._

_And, together, they walk side-by-side and talk of nothing and everything until it’s time to wake._

-

Ashore, Jim and Spock know where they stand.

On the ship, that first night out of space dock and into the five-year mission, Jim bites at the knuckle of his thumb, staring down at the timestamp on his PADD in his lap, they hadn’t had time to talk about it with all the final preparations that needed doing, and he wonders if—

But then the doors _swish_ open and Jim can’t find the words to describe his relief when Spock enters his room, briefly touches their foreheads together, and crawls into bed.

They’ve been spotted more than once coming out of Jim’s (their) cabin together, showing up to breakfast together just to sit shoulder-to-shoulder and eat off each other’s plates. Even when he’d been with Nyota, Spock had never allowed this kind of proximity. Then again, he hadn’t had to watch her die. Nothing brings people closer than the apparent death of the other.

Spock pointedly doesn’t think about how it may have been Jim’s very death that had led to the termination of Spock and Nyota’s relationship – those many hours afterward, before Jim had awakened, Spock had never left his side. Those hours shifting to days of Spock constantly monitoring of Jim – both near and from afar, using every proxy he could in the forms of McCoy and other crewmembers visiting Jim whenever they could and even the staff of the Starfleet housing building where Jim’s apartment was located.

Spock had had no time to comfort Nyota, who was suffering just as much as he, and two weeks in, he’d realized it had never occurred to him. He had apologized and asked what he could do for her, but Nyota had looked at him and said she realized what was going on and that, eventually, Spock would, too.

He hadn’t understood.

Still didn’t understand when he went to Jim’s apartment and they fell into bed with their minds wholly wrapped up together, clutching each other and crying for what almost was.

Still didn’t understand when, the next morning, Jim looked him in the eyes and apologized for Spock’s break-up.

Spock had cocked his head to the side, pausing his preparing of tea and said, “It was no fault of yours, Jim.”

Jim leveled a serious and examining look at Spock before he apparently found his answer and looked away. “Okay, then, Spock.”

-

_Spock sees his planet dying, his mother falling._

_After his and Jim’s first meld, Spock had picked up the memories of his counterpart from Jim and now Spock knows what an imploding planet looks like from the ground. So, Vulcan dies (twice) and his mother falls and Spock screams as he reaches for her and, this time, when Jim approaches him on the bridge – he puts his arms around Spock’s neck and he says, over and over—_

_“I’m sorry, Spock. I’m so sorry. I should’ve been faster, I should’ve been better, I should’ve—”_

_Spock can do nothing except pull Jim close, putting his nose in Jim’s neck and breathing him in._

-

A low-level bond forms between them – something just solid enough to push a broad feeling through. It comes in handy whenever one of them is kidnapped or cloned or possessed.

Of course, there’s also that one time when Jim finds himself on the wrong side of a shift in dimensions and Spock knows immediately by the faintness of the bond that something was wrong.

Spock, had he been prone to panic, would have done it then – but the bond was simply _faint_ , it wasn’t _gone_. Instead, he calculates the odds and enacts plans; he keeps a firm grip on the bond and as soon as it starts to strengthen, Spock orders the transporter beam to lock on and then they’re thrown clear of the Tholians and their web and Spock _knows_ they’ve got the captain safe even before he’s been fully assembled on the transporter pad.

“I’m glad you didn’t give up on me,” Jim says, looking up at Spock where Spock was standing over him, Jim laying down in their bed – ordered to take at least two days to recuperate from the time spent at low oxygen levels.

And maybe some of that not-panic is still coursing through Spock, because Spock can’t help but lean over, bracing himself with one hand next to Jim’s face and the other against the wall-shelf behind the bed, and Spock puts his forehead to Jim’s.

“I focused on the bond, and I _pulled_ , captain,” Spock says. “I would not have you drifting off to other universes without me.”

Jim huffs a laugh, his breath ghosting over Spock’s face and Spock takes his time before he straightens.

-

They had talked about letting their relationship turn more physical.

They had gone over the pros (could strengthen their bond) and cons (should they meld mid-coitus, they could accidentally strengthen their bond to the point of permanence) logically and at great length before deciding that while neither were opposed, it was ultimately unnecessary for the time being.

“What do you mean you’re not—”

Jim shrugs, says to Bones, “We’re just not. If we get carried away, the bond’s permanent.” Jim takes a sip to buy himself a moment. “Honestly,” he licks his lips, “I can’t say we’re both not just waiting for Khan’s blood to give out and I drop dead. And I don’t—” Jim closes his eyes, feels Spock reaching out a comforting touch through their bond “—I don’t think Spock would survive it. Hell, if Spock’s the one gone, I’m not sure—.” Jim shakes himself, leaves the sentence there to hang between them.

Bones just stares at him over the glass of his whiskey. Jim holds the doctor’s gaze as he takes a sip of his own drink.

“I can’t say if I’m impressed or not by your restraint,” Bones finally settles on. “But I do think we should talk about your co-dependency.”

“I don’t think we need to talk about that,” Jim says, looking towards the door, sensing the moment just before Spock walks in.

“That’s not creepy,” Bones mutters into his glass.

Jim doesn’t pay him any mind, just sends a gentle wave of affection over to Spock through their bond – it’s been three hours since they saw each other last, Spock had experiments and other Science Department business to handle, and so Jim had taken the time to catch up with Bones. See? They’re not co-dependent. Not any more than any other couple on this ship.

The doctor himself is now glancing between them before muttering his goodbyes as he stands and heads for the door – not even sure if his absence is noticed for the way neither Jim nor Spock look away from each other, talking in that way that they’ve always had – even before Khan and Jim’s death and the bond – with just a raised eyebrow or quirk of their lips, neither of them needing to do much at all to have a full conversation.

Surprisingly, or maybe not, their dreamselves suffer no hindrances when it comes to expressing their sexuality.

Spock blows Jim against a tree of the paradise planet, his dark eyes almost black in the perpetual sunset; Jim rides Spock in the chair in front of everyone, throwing his head back and laughing as Scotty sheepishly asks for a towel.

Sometimes, in the morning after those dreams, they’ll lock eyes and stare until one of them moves to the bathroom.

God, and sometimes, when they’ve drifted close to each other in the night, they’ll be moving against each other in their sleep – Spock thrusting against Jim’s hip, pinning him in place with his weight, as Jim fucks the mattress. On some of those mornings, they’ll slow and stop as they start to wake. On others, Spock grabs Jim’s wrists and holds them out as he bites down hard into the meat of Jim’s shoulder, Jim gasping as he pushes his ass up against Spock. _Those_ mornings, the latter ones, were becoming far more frequent, and Spock finally breaks and says in no uncertain terms that they needed to head for New Vulcan and they needed to get there _now_.

There is no mate to welcome Spock – T’Pring had died with Vulcan That Was – but he knows, without even looking, that Jim is taking a step forward to stand at Spock’s side in front of T’Pau and Sarek and Ambassador Spock.

“We’re already sharing a bed,” he says, appearing to (unnecessarily) make his case to Spock, “we’re already bonded; I love you so much it scares me.” Jim presents his index- and middle-finger, pressed tightly together, out to Spock. “We’re already married, Spock, would you like to just make it official?”

Spock doesn’t look away, can’t find it in himself to as he feels the _plak tow_ beginning to slowly rise within him. Still, he forces himself to speak.

“This will be permanent,” Spock says. “There is no going back from this, Jim.”

“I’m sorry, Spock,” Jim says, smirking and not looking sorry at all, “but you’ve been stuck with me since you accepted the position as First Officer.”

Spock reaches out then, laying his two fingers across Jim’s and says, “I find this to be satisfactory.”

Jim doesn’t look away as he smiles wide, stroking his fingers across Spock’s as he pours everything he feels across their bond.

The sex doesn’t change much for them. After the ceremony, their bond strengthens to the point they can pass along clear and articulated thoughts.

 _Bones already complains we forget to include people in our conversations,_ Jim projects as he nuzzles into Spock. _This will drive him crazy_.

 _We shall have to endeavor to be inclusive in our conversations beyond the confines of this room_ , Spock says.

Jim sighs, as if put upon, but in the end, he agrees as the two of them curl around each other, Spock’s hand on the side of Jim’s face and their legs intertwined.

-z-

End.


End file.
